


Solar Eclipse

by Johnismyloveforever64



Category: The Beatles
Genre: Angst, Hospitalization
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-09
Updated: 2015-12-09
Packaged: 2018-05-05 18:54:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5386709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Johnismyloveforever64/pseuds/Johnismyloveforever64
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Paul recalls a profound memory as his life changes forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Solar Eclipse

Paul sits alone. Surrounding him are strangers, some of them hurt, others coughing, but he remains unscathed. His white button-down shirt is covered in blood, none of which is his own. For fifteen minutes, he sat absolutely still. Only his fingers twitched. Nothing else moved.  
His heart pounded in his ears along with the sound of dozens of telephones ringing off the hook. He heard someone screaming in the distance. He tried to tune it out. He tried to focus on something else. Anything else than what surrounded him. 

It was just after the tour ended. John had suddenly fallen ill. “Tonsils,” Brian told him, “they have to take them out.” Paul braced himself for what he knew was coming: the backlash. 

“There is no way I’m letting any quack cut me open!” He heard his mate yell before he could even reach the door. He peaked inside, just barely catching a glimpse of John standing on top of his hospital bed in his dressing gown pointing a Styrofoam sword at a poor nurse with a syringe. Paul couldn’t help but smile. He knocked on the door and suddenly 

John looked up, a crooked smile spreading across that face of his. Paul slowly came in, hovering by the door for a second, and then after seeing his mate, looking pale and wan, rushed over to him, jumping on the bed and leaping into his arms. 

“Oh, I missed you,” John cried. 

“I missed you too,” Paul whispered, squeezing him tighter. 

“I’ll come back later,” the nurse said before stabbing John with the needle. 

“Hey, watch it!” he shrieked, pushing the sword into his face. She rolled her eyes and walked away, slamming the door shut.   
John looked at Paul, grinning wickedly. 

“You’re next!” He shouted and chased him around the room with his weapon. Paul grabbed a pillow and used it as a shield before using it as a weapon. The two ran around like children, leaping on his bed and off again. They stopped short when the door suddenly opened again. Brian stood in the doorway, lighting a cigarette.

“You should be in bed.”

“I’m not six.” 

“No, but you are sick. Get in bed.” John plopped down the bed, throwing his sword aside. He picked up his stuffed bunny off the night stand, an item Paul hadn’t seen in a long time, and hugged it to his chest. 

Paul lowered himself next to him. 

“Boys,” Brian called to them. “Be good tonight. John has a big day tomorrow, and I don’t want you keeping him up all night.”

“S’alright, Brian. We’ll be good. We promise.”

“Sure you do,” he responded, kissing them both on the top of the head. He left the room, turning off the light as he did.

“So, what should we do?” Paul asked John. He shrugged. “Wanna watch TV?” John nodded sleepily. Suddenly, the energy he had had completely washed away. He rolled over, facing   
the wall, hugging tightly.

Paul flicked on the TV and then slid lower in bed, wrapping the blanket around him. And for a while, this is how they stayed. John barely looked at the TV, mostly watching the shadows move on the wall. Paul watched the show, but he didn’t pay much attention. 

He kept thinking about what Brian told him, about all the stuff they were going to have to do when John was under. He couldn’t think of John in that way, but he couldn’t help it. He kept picturing his best mate, lying on the operating table, completely unconscious, while a team of doctors stood over him in scrubs pulled out his insides. Paul shuddered at the thought. He peeked over at his mate, who was still staring at the wall. He nudged him. He rolled over and looked at Paul, who was looking at him with this big doe eyes. 

“What’s going on?” He seemed so tired, barely even opening his eyes. 

“I just wanted to see how you were doing.” 

John shrugged. He smiled a little.

“And you?”

Paul shrugged back. He looked down, blushing slightly, his long eyelashes casting long shadows down his face. John brushed Paul’s fringe forward, covering his eyes. Paul’s nose crinkled. He pushed it back, and glowered at John. Then, he smiled, his face lighting up. John rolled over, practically glowing. Then, a look of realization crossed his face and he quickly rolled back over so he was facing Paul. 

“I can’t believe it’s happening.”

“I know. It feels so sudden.” Paul scooted closer to John so their foreheads were almost touching. “But, Brian says everything is going to be alright so…”

“And Brian is right about everything?” He gave him a knowing look. “Look, McCartney, Brian knows a lot about a lot of things, but he doesn’t know anything about doctors or   
operations or anything like that. He only knows music, business, and how to take care of four college puddings. This sort of thing,” he shook his head, taking a drag from a straw   
he was pretending was a cigarette, “it’s just not his area.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that any reassurance that everything is going to be just fine is all bullshit.” Paul’s eyes widened. 

“What?” He gasped.

“I’m not saying I’m on my last leg. It’s a minor operation. I’ll be in and out in less than an hour. But the certainty that that man speaks with,” he shook his head, sucking in a sharp breath and then exhaling slowly. 

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying, that if this is—I’m not saying it is—my last night, then I want you to—“

“Mr. Lennon,” a female voice suddenly called out. It was the nurse from earlier. She rolled in an IV, dragging it over to John. 

“What the hell are you gonna do with that?” He recoiled. 

She grabbed his arm, pulled it forward slightly. 

“This is just some medicine to help you sleep,” she told him, and slowly injected the needle into his arm. 

“I sleep well, thank you!” he called back as she left the room. He looked back at Paul, his eyes already hanging. “McCartney, I love you.”

“I love you too, John.”

“Not just that. I love you so much. You mean the world to me, you know that right. Not just that. You are a half moon, and I am the other half, and together we make one whole moon. Together, we make the oceans move. We erode the beaches of oppression and boredom and we give couples light as we walk at night. We make an amazing team, you and   
I. and I’ll always love you for that.”

“John, you’re not going anywhere.”

“But if I do, I want you to know that you can live without me.”

“No I-I can’t. You were right, I am your other half.”

John touched a finger to Paul’s lips. 

“I know. I know, but if something happens, and one of us goes, then you have to find a way to go on living with one half missing.” 

Paul started crying and John pulled him in close to him, soothing him. 

“I’m gonna be okay,” he whispered. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m not really leaving ya. It’s just, what, two hours—maybe less. I mean, what are the odds, right?” Paul sniffled.

“I guess you’re right.”

“Hey,” his eyes were starting to close. “Remember, you are my sunshine, my only sun…” and he fell asleep in Paul’s arms. He looked at him in shock and fear, starting to hyperventilate. The thought of this being the end, the end of everything, it made him start sobbing.

“You make me happy when skies are grey,” he sang through his tears. 

And here Paul sits, covered in someone else’s blood, and just as the doctor approaches him a song comes over the loudspeaker and the words fill Paul’s ears, “please don’t take my sunshine away.”


End file.
